


Just One Thing

by villainsarebetter (darkling59)



Series: Monster Month [7]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Creature Fic, F/M, creature!Belle, mer-creatures, mer-octopus?, pirate!Rumplestiltskin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-04-29 03:18:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5114069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkling59/pseuds/villainsarebetter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When pirate captain Rumpelstiltskin Gold is thrown into the watery depths by his mutinous crew, he comes face to face with every sailor’s worst nightmare: a mer-creature. Only, this one is no fish-maid…she has no tail, but bears a striking resemblance to an octopus…or a kraken.</p>
<p><b>Warning:</b> This one got <i>weird</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> And here we have the fic that almost wasn’t. I’m not really sure about posting this one, just because it’s pretty…weird. But, it’s Halloween, right? Horror, weirdness, monsters, and…um…octopus-people abound! Tentacles galore in this fic.
> 
> …
> 
> Anyhow! I’ve gotten some good feedback on it, and I’ve spent a lot of time writing it so I don’t want to leave it to rot on my hard drive. Therefore, I’ve decided to post it even if I am still a little unsure.
> 
> **NOTICE:** Prompts will be open tomorrow morning! I’ll post a note as to what verses I”ll write for, but if you liked my monster fics, feel free to drop by my ask box! The link is: _villainsarebetter(.)tumblr(.)com/ask_

Losing his ship wasn’t the worst turn of Captain Rumpelstiltskin Gold’s life, but it seemed to be the one that would finally do him in. He’d known when he turned at the wheel to find Killian standing next to Milah with a gun in one hand and a sword in the other, fully intending to take him down there and then, that he wouldn’t be able to overturn the mutiny.

And as a result, this was how he would die; hands and ankles chained together and tied to a cannon ball, consigned to the depths by his traitorous ex-wife and her lover. A pirate’s life was not a safe one, but he’d never expected this turn, especially on his own territory.

The cannonball dragged him down through the water painfully fast, nearly forcing the air from his lungs before coming to rest on the ocean floor with a deceptively gentle puff of sandy silt. Escape was impossible; the chains were heavy iron and the cannon ball weighed ten pounds on its own.

This was how he was going to die.

He was examining his restraints with gloomy resignation and black desperation, looking for escape without expecting to find one, when he looked up and froze in horror.

A monster was staring at him from the shadowy depths of the ocean, a creature that must have been snatched from some eldritch horror tale: a beautiful woman with the lower body of a great squid or octopus. He stared in shock, before thrashing harder against his restraints. He knew what she was - an octomer. Mer-creatures were known to feast on human flesh and while he did not want to die, he wanted to be devoured alive even less.

His struggles were for naught as the creature swum closer, circling him with leisurely curiosity. He was unable to flinch away when those long, terrifying tentacles reached for him, running deceptively soft tips across his cheeks and through his hair, and he watched in shock and fear as they made quick work of the chains, snapping them open and sliding them from his wrists and ankles, freeing him only to lock him into a much more dangerous confinement: her tentacles.

Up close, he could see that she truly was beautiful. Her eyes were a bewitching blue, her skin was flawless and pale, and her face was fine-featured and deceptively kind. Even her lower half was painted in stripes of chestnut and burnt umber by the light striping down from the surface, with a thick webbing of deep black skin stretching between the bases of the tentacles close to her body. The webbing bore a resemblance to some sort of webbed skirt that stretched out a good seven feet on each tentacle and bridged between them, no less than five feet at each lowest point (small when compared to the 10-15 foot length of each tentacle). If he squinted, he could pick out shimmers of blue and green markings down the back of her limbs.

But, beautiful though she was, he was not bewitched; he knew that those tentacles and webbing concealed a sharp beak at the center of her mass, intended to rip her prey limb from limb and devour it, and he could well imagine that as his destination. As soon as he was free of the chains, he kicked away, desperately trying to escape.

He struggled to swim away, clawing at the slippery tendrils and twisting in an attempt to loosen her grip, fighting as best he could, but it was pointless. Every time he thought he’d made progress, she would effortlessly wrap a tentacle around an ankle or wrist and spin him right back into her many-armed embrace, taking the opportunity to poke and snatch at him until he broke away again…and again, only made it far enough for false hope to begin stirring in his chest before he was dragged back to the ocean’s floor.

He was heavily reminded of a fisherman playing his catch, giving it just enough line to tire itself out as he reeled it in. Or a child playing with a toy.

But worse than being played with by a creature of the deep, far worse than being her toy or intended supper, was the fact that he was running out of air.

* * *

Belle played with the squirming human in her tentacles, fascinated by the way he reacted to her. She knew what a human was, barely, but she’d never seen one up close and this one was just so… _new_. He had _legs!_ Her curiosity was unbounded so she investigated her catch thoroughly, tugging and squeezing with her tentacles, running the soft sensory organs in the tips all over him, letting him swim almost to the limit of her reach in his escape attempts…then reeling him back and away from freedom. Her tentacles twisted him end over end in a confusing whirl, yanking and pushing at every part of his body she could grasp so she could get a good look at him from every angle, and she watched him twist in circles trying to keep track of her. Mostly, she used the thin, sensitive tips of her tentacles to hold him, not pulling _too_ close because that would end the game early: he still had enough room to struggle if she held him at a distance, but the thicker prey-holding bases of her limbs would immobilize him completely. His clothes were a problem – she wanted to see and feel _him_ , not the flimsy rough fabric so many humans believed was necessary for some reason.

She was considering stripping the excess rags away to better examine him, when she realized he wasn’t responding to her teasing yanks anymore. Her disappointment mounted when his struggles slowed and then stopped, and prodded him several times in an attempt to get him moving again, to make him interesting again, but all he did was clutch his throat weakly and try to paddle upwards.

It took her almost too long to get it.

Oh. _Air_.

When she realized he was drowning, suffocating on the water that gave her life, she reacted instantly, ending the illusion that he had ever had any hope of escape by looping a tentacle around his waist and dragging him in like a frog with a fly, using her powerful limbs to fold him easily as small as he would go despite his weak protests. (It was fascinating how compact humans could be! Merfolk did not have joints in their lower bodies and so could not bend very well, but the human could bend almost completely in half at his waist, and again at his knees!) When she had him curled in a ball, clutched snug within her webbing by her beak, right under the core of her body and completely hidden by her thicker tentacles, she jetted upwards with a _whoosh_ of water, long limbs trailing in the water behind them. She felt him jolt in surprise, even hidden as he was beneath the web of thick, flexible skin surrounding the center of her mass, but in his restricted position he could not get in the way of her swimming or change the streamlined shape that gave her such speed.

It only took her twenty seconds or so to get to the surface, head breaking the waves and surveying the environment critically for threats. When she was confident they were alone and safe, she wrapped the tip of a tentacle around his ankle and pulled him free, letting him unfold in an ungainly flail of limbs and bob to the surface.

His arms splashed frantically and he gasped for air, coughing up water and nearly submerging himself as he tried to paddle and cough at the same time. Instead of watching him struggle, and possibly drown, Belle wrapped two long tentacles around his chest and upper arms, holding him in place with his head in the air so he could breathe, but immobilized and firmly in her control.

He flinched, but took advantage of the support, sagging in her grasp as he heaved oxygen into his lungs. When she deemed him recovered and tried to drag him back under the surface, he fought, trying to remain, but she was too excited to listen to him. With tentacles around his chest, waist, thighs, and calves, she once again folded him small, and anchored him beneath her tentacles, and then she was off, jetting through the water at an amazing speed.

He had more energy this time so she could feel his struggling; frantic little flutters of motion and jolts of sensation against her beak and the sensitive skin underneath her webbing. It felt a little bit like the flapping of a big fish being held for prey, but with so many more touches, and in so many places…she actually gasped when he hit a particularly sensitive spot on the inside of a tentacle, clenching her tentacles on instinct until he yelped in surprise and pain, caught as he was in the midst of her powerful muscles and pinned against her sharp beak. The closest comparison she could draw was to one of her kind seeking a mate, with enough fingers and tentacles to draw a pleasurable reaction. But he was a much more manageable size than one of her kind, less domineering than male octo-mer (incapable of being that domineering, in truth), and easier to swim with as well.

By and large, she thought that was a good thing.

* * *

Rumpelstiltskin was tumbled end over end in his fleshy prison, confused and terrified. Every few minutes, the octo-mer would swim to the surface and lay on her back, allowing air to filter through the gaps in her tentacles and webbing to him so he could breathe, but she did not let him out of her center after the first time, instead clutching him close with the thick bases of her tentacles and the sharp hook of her beak, so he never even caught a glimpse of the sky. She always returned to swimming after a very short period of time. Struggling was…he hesitated to say _punished_ , because she didn’t seem to mind (or even notice), but he wasn’t sure what to make of the soft, apparently sensitive skin of her inner body, especially when compared to the relatively rough skin on the outer side of her sturdier tentacles. One thing he had figured out was that she was _powerful_. When _all_ of the muscles around him clenched at once, he was completely immobilized, crushed so close to her it felt like she was trying to absorb him. The first time she did it, he was terrified her beak was going to rip him limb from limb and she would devour him, but she hadn’t, and the same thing had happened half a dozen times since, every time he thought he might have a way to escape. When it happened, all he could do in response was twitch his fingers and toes, pawing ineffectively against her impenetrable hide.

Eventually, he stopped moving and simply cooperated, knowing he had no other choice and he would be better served storing his energy for a later chance at escape. It wasn’t only that she was moving at a fast clip in a direction he did not know, taking him far away from the trade routes and potential rescue…it was also that he knew there would _be_ no rescue. He’d lost his crew to mutiny and been sent to the depths chained to a cannon ball - even if any of them had lingering respect for him, they thought he was dead. _He_ had thought he was dead until the octomer advanced out of the deep like an avenging demon. Though the jury was still out on his continued longevity. If he was going to escape, he would need to do it himself and bide his time until a chance presented itself.

At the moment, his survival was at her discretion. He started counting breathing breaks after the first five or so, and made it to two hundred and thirty seven before his captor changed direction. By that point, he was waterlogged, cramped, and very unhappy.

He felt her shift angles, diving into the depths and leveling out somewhere near the sea floor. Before he could become uneasy, she turned back towards the surface and in short order he heard her break the surface of the water. There was something different about this breathing break, though…the sound seemed to echo oddly and his captor relaxed with a happy sigh when she bobbed on to her back. He took the chance to twist as much as possible, breathing in the damp air that filtered through her tentacles to him, but even that was different – it smelled and tasted like seaweed and contained an odd chemical bite; limestone, maybe? This time, she did not dive again and after he breathed his fill and felt slightly more human, he began to shift restlessly, not quite fighting (knowing how she would respond to _that_ ), but trying to advertise his unhappiness.

* * *

Belle stretched out over the surface of the water, relaxing happily in her small cavern, her home away from home. It was equal parts sandy beach and deep water with a few tide pools and, most importantly, no exit to the outside world beyond her tunnel deep, deep underwater. Her body felt pleasantly stretched and flexible from all of the exercise and her human was twisting against her in such a way that felt _very_ good. She could let him out now, there was plenty of air for him to breathe, no predators to snatch him away from her, and no way he could escape unless he spontaneously grew a set of gills, but instead she decided to hold onto him a little longer, savoring the gentle fluttering and rubbing sensations he caused. It felt like he was scratching a particularly persistent itch that she’d never been able to reach.

She hummed in pleasure and then yawned widely, relaxing even more. After a long moment of bliss, she stretched mightily, clenching all of her muscles down the length of her body, not noticing the muffled squeak from her captive as she accidentally squeezed him, pressing in on him from all sides. Loose and happy, she drifted aimlessly into the shallows of her small cove. For a long while – over two hours - she simply bobbed and relaxed, lulled by the gentle movements of the waves and the tickling nudges of her captive. Eventually, almost asleep, she anchored herself half- on land in a shallow tide pool and arranged her tentacles in a tangled, comfortable knot that protected her midsection.

Within five minutes, she was deeply asleep.

* * *

Rumple felt his captor’s breathing even out with a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach. She’d loosened up around him a lot, but he was still trapped and he knew her tentacles weren’t going to release him any time soon (though at least he could breathe). After another round of poking, prodding, and struggling refused to even disturb her, he unhappily settled himself against the nearest trunk-like tentacle, curled in a loose ball that was the best position he could find. Maybe he’d be able to get some rest before she woke up. If she was in the mood to play with him again, he’d definitely need it.

* * *

**Notes on this Universe:**  
-There are plenty of other bloodthirsty mer-creatures in this universe that would be happy to devour Rumple if they caught him. Their numbers are about an even split with the more friendly tribes of intelligent aquatic life.

-There is no Bae in this universe

-Belle likes Rumple. Rumple is on the fence about Belle (not that he realizes that yet), but he comes to like her when he gets some time to talk to her and get to know her as a person rather than a predator.

-Belle can speak English, but she doesn’t get much of a chance underwater. It’s more of a hobby than a necessity; mer-creatures normally only use clicks and singing to communicate since they live underwater. She does NOT know Rumple can speak English, though.


	2. Prompt 1

**Prompt:** @iambicdearie: Octomer!Verse: Belle apologizes for frightening Rumple/nearly drowning him several times.

* * *

_Belle wasn’t very nice to Rum the first time ‘round, but they’ve come to an understanding by the time this ficlet happens._

* * *

 “I really am sorry, you know.”

“Hm?” Captain Rum Gold - well, former captain - blinked at the female Octomer drifting just off the shore. He’d barely even noticed her presence despite the thick black tentacles riding the waves mere feet away and the bare beautiful female upper body in the surf, which said quite a bit about how far they had come since their first meeting three weeks ago. The fact that his next action was to walk _towards_ the mer-woman - into easy reach of her long limbs - was an even greater indication of trust. “Sorry for what?”

“For frightening you when we met.” Belle grazed a tentative tentacle around his bare arm, light with regret. “I never meant to hurt you.”

Gold cocked an eyebrow, observing the genuine remorse that shadowed Belle’s light blue eyes, and felt his weakening resolve for practical wariness fall even further. He sighed.

“It’s alright, dearie.”

“But…I hurt you.” For such a powerful creature, her voice could go remarkably small.

He shrugged. Those early hours had been terrifying and rough, and he still shuddered when he thought about them, even knowing Belle’s actions had saved his life. However, he knew she felt terrible and that made him feel bad. The velvet-smooth texture of her dry tentacle was soft under his gentle hand as he gave it a reassuring pat. “I’m fine now, Belle. Truly. And your assistance in finding a ship to take me home more than makes up for our meeting.”

There was a bare moment of hesitation before Belle nodded, guilt mounting on the regret in her eyes and Gold sighed again. It had taken her some time to realize he was a sapient being, a person rather than a trinket or prey, but once she came to that conclusion, her behavior went through a dramatic change. She was still curious, but also apologetic and protective. Gold appreciated this change, but he was still ready to leave the small enclosed cove. Unfortunately, he could not access the underwater entrance so that depended entirely on when she was ready to let him go.

“As soon as a safe ship comes within hailing distance.” He amended.

This time her nod was fast and definite and Gold felt a little more settled. Belle had been horrified to learn of his potential fate if he was delivered to rival pirates, traders, or a navy vessel. It was touching, in a way, even if it did keep him in the cavern a bit longer.

When another tentative tentacle reached for him, wrapping around the wrist of the hand he’d used to touch her, he allowed himself to be tugged forward, noting with relief that her grip was gentle and she’d left him slack to move away if he desired.

She was a nice person, even (perhaps especially) for an octomer and she had the unnerving ability to slip through his guard. Losing his ship still hurt and he had every intention of hunting down Jones and Milah once he got his hands on a new vessel, but Belle’s presence soothed that loss a bit. Ironically, she was better company than he’d had since before eloping with Milah. He might as well enjoy her companionship while he was stuck here.

He settled on a rock at the tide line at her urging and looked at her with a quizzical expression.

“Tell me another story?” She suggested, tone much lighter.

Gold huffed a laugh. Belle never seemed to get bored with his tales of life on land and his adventures as a pirate. It wasn’t like he was complaining, though - she was a very appreciative audience.

“Once upon a time…”

As he spoke, he pretended not to notice her delighted smile or the way she seemed more interested in him than in the story.

The two of them relaxed as the story’s spell settled over the cove.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy! And please let me know what you think. :)


	3. Prompt 2

****This Prompt Fill:** ** Shortly after being captured, Captain Gold discovers a unique ability that his captor possesses.

**Prompt:** @Anonymous: Bioluminescence

* * *

There was something in the water.

Captain Gold had been trapped in the sea-monster’s cave for almost a week now and was quickly becoming accustomed to his barren surroundings and his overly-touchy captor. He’d _thought_ he knew everything there was to know about the small, sparse sandy area that was currently his residence but this was something new.

Fairy lights glimmered right below the surface, reminding him of stars. It had been too long since he’d seen the sky – he followed the flickering as if mesmerized. He knew they weren’t actually stars…but what were they?

Would it be possible for him to collect whatever it was to use as a source of light?

With his captor absent at the moment, he felt secure enough to venture away from the far wall of the cave, advancing cautiously towards the tideline to investigate the lights. Now he could see that they were somehow flowing through the water – more like fireflies than stars, shining beyond his current reach over the edge of the inky darkness indicative of the deeper water that led down, down, down to the opening of the cave at the ocean floor, far beyond his ability to dive. However, they were close enough to stars to remind him of the outside world and the open sky.

His bare toes reached the water without his really noticing (he’d been accustomed to constant wetness long before Milah’s mutiny – since right after he became a sailor) and it quickly passed his ankles and then his calves as he curiously tried to follow the lights. They swarmed seemingly just out of reach and he edged closer, even knowing that there was a sharp drop off somewhere close. He could almost reach the lights…just a little closer…!

Suddenly, the sandy bottom vanished below his feet and he just barely managed to catch a gulp of air and curse mentally before he fell off of the rock shelf that formed the beach and submerged completely in the deep pool beyond.

Instantly, he clawed for the surface but the lights swarmed towards him and with a sinking sense of dismay, he realized they outlined darker shapes that had been hidden by their luminescence.

Tentacles.

The familiar sensation of the smooth alien appendages wrapping around his limbs was less surprising than the realization that the ‘lights’ were actually a _part_ of the tentacles. He stared at them in surprise, following the glowing speckles that decorated the backs of the tentacles in a mesmerizing, complicated play of light. He followed the trail of them right up until they reached the torso of the mer-octopus and blinked when he noted that the spots on her skin…right up her sides and belly, across her shoulders and dusting her cheeks in what he’d _thought_ were freckles…were glowing with a gentle whitish-green twinkle.

Bioluminescence.

He’d heard of it, had even seen it in some sea-fish (as well as fireflies, of course) – anglerfish in particular had a glowing lure that dangled in front of their mouths to attract prey and he’d seen some jellyfish swarms glow when they swam beneath his ship in the night. There were lots of sea animals that somehow generated their own light for misdirection or to attract mates, but he hadn’t known that included _mer-creatures_. Surreptitiously, he reached out and brushed his hand over the nearest tentacle which was wrapped around his wrist, feeling the lights. To his fingertips, they were indistinguishable from the rest of her skin – just little pinpricks that together had a striking effect in the deep darkness.

His captor allowed him that small range of movement, watching him with interest.

Early on, Rum had come to wonder how old his captor was – she looked like an adult in human terms, but her boundless enthusiasm and curiosity reminded him of a child. He was of the opinion that a normal mer- at least, a normal adult - would have ripped him apart on the spot and eaten him rather than…well…whatever this was.

The casual cruelty – overenthusiasm, he was coming to realize – had not reappeared since that first day. At least, not to the extent that he feared for his life. Once he was ‘safely’ caged and helpless, the mer calmed down. Apparently, she wanted to take her time with him. There was nowhere for him to hide on the beach and it was small enough that she could reach him with her tentacles no matter how far from the water he tried to flee and how hard he pushed himself back against the stone walls, and she took advantage of her long reach with depressing frequency. It seemed like the only times he saw her were when she was feeding him (fish and seaweed, mostly) or when she wanted to ‘play’ which was often many times a day.

He’d learned to go limp when she wrapped him in her tentacles and dragged him underwater, allowing her to tug and contort his body like a ragdoll – she was gentler if he wasn’t resisting. She had a special fascination with his legs and feet - understandably, he supposed, since she didn’t have any – and could spend long spans of time just bending his knees and ankles. With frequent breathing breaks for Rum, of course, even if it had taken some frantic pantomimes to persuade her they were necessary. She also enjoyed tugging on his hair and bodily moving him around.

Once she lost interest, she would leave him on the beach and swim out of the submerged exit. Other than breaks for air, she mostly interacted with him underwater. He had yet to manage any sort of two-way communication (though, to be fair, he wasn’t trying that hard – he preferred trying to escape).

This was the first time they’d interacted without his being treated like a toy – in fact, it was the first time _he_ had approached _her_ at all.

But his oxygen was running short, so he tried to paddle towards the surface, hoping she would get the message and allow him that much leeway. To his surprise, the tentacles loosened almost completely, allowing him to break the surface under his own power and tread water as he took in life-giving air. He could still feel her tentacles brushing past his legs and see her glowing, bioluminescent freckles shimming right below the surface within touching distance, but she did not grab him again.

And when he headed for the shore, she let him go, watching with a cocked head and curious gaze as he stumbled his way back onto the sand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy! And please let me know what you think. :)


	4. Prompt 3

**This Prompt Fill:** It couldn’t last forever. 

 **Prompt** : @Anonymous: belle finally finds a vessel that is safe for gold to travel on. But they are both having a really hard time saying goodbye,

* * *

“Is that it? Is it safe?” Belle’s voice next to Rum’s ear was close enough to ruffle his hair but he barely noticed. There was warm sand between his toes, a whisper of breeze brushing his cheeks, and bright stars twinkling overhead - the tiny island Belle had brought him to in order to show him what she’d found. Even the breath of freedom was not enough to capture his attention.

Instead, his eyes were fixed on the familiar vessel on the horizon which was riding low in the water - a small two-decked cutter with a grinning rabbit figurehead. He knew from experience that it was a nominally a merchant and only carried a handful of crew, all of whom were quite happy to look the other way when their captain traded with pirates as easily as other merchants.

Jefferson Hatter had been an ally for years, even before sailing entered either of their lives; they’d met long before Rumple married Milah and Jefferson had never really approved of her. The _Marching Hare_ was as safe as vessel as any that would ever pass this way.

“Aye.” He replied, voice muted in the crisp night air. “That’s Captain Hatter’s vessel. He’s a good man and an old friend.”

“...Oh.” Belle’s voice was small. Her tentacles, which were arrayed in the sand and surf at Rum’s feet, roiled unhappily and then reached up and tightened around his chest and legs, pulling him closer to her and away from the ship.

Pulled out of his concentration, the pirate captain looked over his shoulder at her in surprise and confusion. They were so close together that he could see the fine crease between her brows and the gently glowing freckles on her skin. When he tried to flex his legs and step free, she did not loosen her grip. He was tangled tightly in her grasp and had to fight down his natural instinct to struggle as her tentacles slowly dragged him back towards the water, away from the beach and into her domain.

“...Belle?” He kept his voice level and low. Careful. There was something strange about her expression, something that reminded him of their first few encounters and sent a foreboding shiver down his spine.

“I could keep you.” She blurted out abruptly. “Down in my cave. You’d be mine and I’d take care of you - no one would ever hurt you again. You don’t need to leave.”

“Oh, Belle.” The words should have been alarming, but instead they saddened him. If there was one thing he’d learned about her over the past few months, it was that she was lonely. A sweet, vibrant soul with so much potential but so few ways to use it...and a social creature born to a species of loners.

He stroked the tentacle around his chest, massaging the velvety surface in slow circles the way he knew she liked.

“You know I need to leave.” His tone stayed gentle, knowing that would be more likely to reach her than any sort of anger or pleading. “I’m human - I can’t live like that for long.”

The mer’s face crumpled and she ducked her head, suppressing a sniffle. It had been a while since she’d manhandled him or made him feel like a helpless toy in her grasp but for just a moment, she forgot to restrain her strength. Her tentacles easily enveloped him and rapidly dragged him off his feet, away from the warm sand of the island until he was in danger of being submerged. He was now perilously close to the deep water leading to Belle’s cave...and further away from Jefferson’s ship.

Rum took a deep breath and let it out slowly, keeping his cool even as his hindbrain screamed at him to struggle.

“Belle, please put me down.”

“But…”

“Belle.”

They had discussed this. He’d emphatically made it clear how much he hated it. Looking into her eyes, he saw the moment it registered that she’d been treating him poorly.

“...I’m sorry.”

Shamefaced, she gently set him back down on the shore and withdrew, refusing to meet his eyes.

His toes flexed in the welcoming sand and he turned with a response on the tip of his tongue, only for it to die at the last moment when he realized Belle was retreating. Her tentacles slipped from the beach and her human upper body quickly submerged to the chest before he could react.

“Belle, wait!”

“No. I-I understand.” Her voice wobbled. “You need to go back to your friend. I don’t-I don’t want to let you go. I _like_ you.” A tentacle flicked back towards him, snaking back up the beach before it could be pulled away.. “But...I know you don’t want to stay with me.”

Her loud sniff tugged at Rum’s heartstrings. After a last torn look at the _Marching Hare_ , Rum turned back to Belle.

He couldn’t stay with her. He knew that. But he didn’t want to say goodbye, either. She was the best companion he’d ever had - and that included his ex-wife.

“Come with me.”

The words tumbled out before he’d registered what they were. He was blinking in shock at his own suggestion when Belle’s head snapped around so quickly that she had to stretch out a tentacle for balance.

“What?” The mer’s response was a hopeful whisper, and Rum could not bring himself to regret his accidental invitation. His mind was already racing ahead, trying to figure out if and how such a thing would be possible...and calculating the benefits to having a literal sea monster on his side. He hadn’t thought of it before because it sounded downright crazy - mermaids _ate_ humans - but now that the moment was here, he found himself reluctant to let go of his former captor.

Jefferson wouldn’t like it, but maybe, _maybe_ Rum could make it work.

“You could come with me, back to the ship.” He offered, hiding his uncertainty.

Belle’s hopeful smile was like the sun coming out from behind the clouds, and Rum found himself resolving that there was no maybe about it.

He would _make_ this work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was a problem the first time I posted, so I'm trying again. I hope it works!

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to iambicdearie for her help with this fic!


End file.
